[Suzanne meets the girls at the bowling shoe rental counter...]
CClerk
What size are you?
What business is it of yours?! I'm eating rice cakes already, what do you people want from me?! Just lay off!
Suzanne, she meant your shoe size.
(embarrassed) Oh! Hehe. Six and a half.
CClerk
Great. There you go. Just leave yourshoes with me.
CClerk
We keep your shoes so you don't walk out with the rented ones.
Do you really think that I'm going to give up my brand new Maude Frizons so that I can walk out of here wearing these multi-colored clown shoes stained with the sweat of sixty-thousand poor people? Because if that's what you're worried about, let me just say, don't worry about it.
[Having recently had a baby and feeling like nothing but a big exhausted mother blob, Charlene takes a meeting with a client...]
I'm not sure. I think it was right after we said hello and shook hands.
I think about 15 minutes. We were sitting on his sofa in his office talking about putting levalors on the windows, and I just sort of nodded off. Sometime after that he woke me up... apparently I was snoring.
... and then what happened?
Well, yeah... cuz I looked down and while I'd been asleep I'd gotten these great big wet milk spots on the front of my blouse.
It was just so humiliating.
And then I just jumped up real quick and put on my coat.
The one with the baby spit on it?
That's right. And thank you for telling me, Suzanne. I didn't notice 'til I'd gotten there.
... and that's when I fell flat on my face in the reception area.
I don't think I want to hear anymore.
I probably wouldn't have fallen except that I'd put my pantyhose on so twisted this morning I've been walking like John Wayne all day. Then my purse came open... and y'know I had that box of baby suppositories in there. They just flew everywhere. There I was, on my hands and knees, wet, sobbing, mascara running down my face, my pantyhose twisted, trying to gather up all these little white firecrackers... ...y'know. Two of the secretaries had to lift me off the floor and help me to my car. Or maybe they were throwing me out... I don't know. I never looked back.
I guess we have been sorta tacky today.
Which I don't understand because basically, we're very nice girls.
Yeah. But we don't talk half as bad as men do. Men say things like, "Yeah, I'm gonna go out and get me some tonight."
Mary Jo. I don't know any men who say that.
Oh yeah. Reese talks like that all the time.
[Suzanne convinces Anthony to pretend to be her maid Consuela to fool immigration.]
I wonder what's keeping Anthony and Suzanne.
Charlene, are you serious? A six foot black man dressed like Hazel just left here with Suzanne, his co-conspirator to defraud and deceive the United States government, and you're wondering what's keeping them? Well, it's been three and a half hours. I don't think you have to wonder anymore. I think it's pretty obvious. They are in prison.
[Suzanne enters followed by Vanessa. Vanessa is carrying a box.]
Hi, no. He's still at the school. Did you find him a present?
VVanessa
Yeah, yeah. Suzanne's helped me pick it out. It was expensive, but my man's only gonna graduate college once.
[Vanessa opens the box...]
Oh, Vanessa. That looks gorgeous.
Did somebody eat my rice cakes?
Well, I might've had one last night.
You might have? Charlene, it seems to me either you did or you didn't.
You know, it is funny to me that you people can eat anything in the world... cookies, bread, potato chips, entire sides of beef. I, on the other hand, have been reduced to some tasteless low cal. fish saliva, and yet for some reason you still feel compelled to come over here and chow down on it.
[Suzanne tells everyone that she's planning on taking them to an elegant spa, La Place san Souci]
I'm taking y'all to la place san sucky.
[Everyone is driving home from a spa from which the ladies were asked to leave after getting into a hellacious cat fight in the mudbath, and Anthony is still wounded from getting shot by Suzanne during the previous episode.]
But then again, I suppose in my heart I always knew that someday we would end up like this. I mean, well, it's kind of fitting isn't it? Here we are going down the highway into the dark Georgia night. Four aging Southern belles — war-torn hair, dirty faces — a nanny, a baby, and a crippled black man.
[The snooty director from the Tour of Homes arrives at Julia's home with the tourists.]
KKaren
Where is Julia please?
KKaren
Are you the one who's going to help her give the tour?
KKaren
Well, c'mon. Let's get started. Skidaddle. Hippity hop!
(putting on Southern airs and yelling upstairs to Julia in a snooty immitation of Karen) Julia! The tour is here! Karen wants us to "skidaddle and hippity hop!"
[Julia's house is placed on a Tour of Homes and she is enforced to open her home to inconsiderate tourists.]
TTourist
Y'know, the other houses were much nicer than this one. This is boring.
TGTour Guide Karen
Well, this isn't one of our better ones. In fact, the only reason it's on the tour is because this was the home of Lucifer T. Stonewall Sugarbaker. He was a very famous horse thief and Yankee spy. Who's seen Gone With the Wind? Do you remember Belle Watling's house? Well this was the original that it was based on.
TTourist
This used to be a whore house?
Alright!! That's it. This is not a whore house, this is my house. And I've had all I'm gonna take of you. You don't care about history, you just want to sell it. You don't even sell it honestly. You just want to sell the myth... the myth of the Old South. You all know that myth, don't ya? Happy darkies singing in the field while Miss Scarlett primps around throwing hissy fits. Well that's an insult. It isn't the South. It's an insult to all the people who lived and died here not so very long ago. We Southerners have had to endure many things. But one thing we Southerners don't have to endure is a bunch of bored housewives turning historical homes into theme parks, not to mention ill-mannered tourists with their Big Gulps, Mysties, Slurpees, and Frosties, their dirty feet overflowing rubber thongs, and babies who sneeze fudgecicle juice! Out!! Out of my house!! As God is my witness... I will burn it down myself before I let you in again!!
[The tourists applaud...]
TTourist
Wow! Just like the movie!
TTourist
This is the best house on the tour!
KKaren
[nervously trying to hurry them out Well... we aim to please. And wasn't that a wonderful piece of theater.As she leaves, she shoots Julia a vicious look!]
Julia, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I don't think you're gonna be invited to be on the tour of homes next year.
' Frankly my dear... .I don't give a damn.
[After Charlene turns juror Julia in for hearing about her case outside of court.]
(on phone) Hello, Charlene. I just wanted to thank you again for turning me into the judge. Now, the whole jury is sequestered till Lord only knows when, and I am here in Motel Hell, sharing a room with a women with no lips.
Julia, I had to do it. We violated that law. By the way, I don't think your supposed to be making telephone calls. I'd hate to have to report this, too.
If you are so all fire, heaped up about turning people in, I believe you'll find some overdue library books in my upstairs den. Why don't you just report that too, and maybe you'll get your merit badge, you big 'ole donkey girl scout!
Now, Julia, you sound overwrought.
Yeah, well, you're gonna think overwrought. If I miss my dinner with Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter because of this, you're going to pay and pay big. I'm going to find you and hunt you down like a dog! I'm talking about you running through the woods in the snow with blood hounds ripping your clothes off! And remember, Charlene, I have your address. You'd be wise to ask yourself "Do I know where my baby is?"!
Julia? Julia!? (hangs up) Oh my gosh, she threatened Olivia.
She said she was going to hunt me down like a dog and hire blood hounds to rip my clothes off! Now, I thought the judge was just going to give her a warning. I didn't know she was going to be shut up in a motel room. Now, Suzanne, you know Julia. I mean, when this is all over she'll realize I had to do it and forgive me, don't you think?
I think you and your baby should get some black wigs on and get the hell out of town.
Maybe Bill can put in for a transfer. I here there's a big base up in Greenland. On second thought, Julia'd probably just strap some snow shoes to her pumps and track you down like caribou.
I didn't know Julia had this in her.
Well, we all have things about ourselves that even we don't know.
[Julia is trying to push the votes through.]
Alright, that's 7 to 4; who didn't vote? (woman raises hand) Well, Janice, what is the problem? Did you intend to mime your vote?
JJanice
I'm just not comfortable making a decision yet.
I see. And yet you are perfectly comfortable smearing your face with white grease paint and annoying pedestrians all over Atlanta. Interesting. No really, Janice, I think it's time you came to a decision. As a matter of fact, I think it's time you all came to a decision. We've been here almost three days, and apparently you people have nothing better to do then to sit around here hogging up the taxpayers' money, eating baskets of fried cheese and staying at the Fair Price Motel. Which I understand some of you think is the nicest place you've stayed in a while. (The "no-lip woman" fumes) Well, let me tell you something, it is not the nicest place I've been in a while. And for your further information, I'm having dinner with a former president and first lady of the United States tonight, because we are all going to be out of here. And the reason we're all going to be out of here is that this case is very simple. Did any of you listen to the judge's instructions? He practically told us to acquit. The case is frivolous! The defendant was not negligent. Case closed! Q.E.D.! Over and out! Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more! Go up to the table and mark your ballots, and if you don't mark them right, I'm going rip that fire extinguisher off the wall and blow your overfed, under-read, simple-minded butts out onto the Fair Price Motel parking lot!
NLNo-Lip Woman
I don't think jury members are supposed to threaten each other. I don't appreciate that.
Oh, really? Well, I don't appreciate you leaving you big ol' box of June Allyson bladder pads on my night stand for all the maids and bellboys to see! Of course, you don't care if you never get out of here; you don't even have to get up to go to the bathroom! Now, I am passing these slips for the final ballot, and I want to tell you right now, read my lips: Mark your slip wrong, and I will wrap it around a fried cheese ball and shove it down your throat!
[The Sugarbakers team wakes up in Charlene's haunted house after a night of telling ghost stories, and find Rusty the electrician bent over exposing part of his backside.]
Well, that's a fine thing to see first thing in the morning; "The Return of Rusty...or Nightmare on Crack Street, part two!"
Why don't you want to talk to Bernice?
Because that hooker she had booked on her show cancelled out.
I know. I told her to call my friend Monette for help.
We tried that, but Monette and Atlanta's better class of prostitutes have gone to Las Vegas for a convention. Consequently, in Bernice's hour of need, Atlanta is suffering a severe shortage. Now we were out until three in the morning driving around in her cadillac looking for — as she put it — "fresh meat". I nearly wrapped the car around a post when she leaned out the window and yelled, "Work it, girl! How'd you like to strut your stuff on public access?!"
